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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28922886">The Sound Of Silence.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatestsun/pseuds/yetanotherunfinishedsymphony'>yetanotherunfinishedsymphony (thegreatestsun)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, How Do I Tag, Immortal Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), L'Manberg War of Independence on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Manipulation, NOT BASED ON THE ACTUAL PEOPLE, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Time Traveler Karl Jacobs, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), chat is an actual thing, he's v much a villain here don't get it twisted, like a plot device, this spans a very long amount of time-</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:22:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,527</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28922886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatestsun/pseuds/yetanotherunfinishedsymphony</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It didn’t matter if Chat didn’t want him.</p><p>It didn’t matter if he couldn’t reach Chat, it didn’t matter if he was broken.</p><p>Because Chat didn’t exist. And it never had.</p><p>---</p><p>Everyone has a Chat. Everyone except Dream.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Darryl Noveschosch &amp; Sapnap, Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Karl Jacobs, Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Wilbur Soot, No Romantic Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>425</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Purrsonal Picks</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Sound Of Silence.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>OKAY SO TECHNICALLY SOMEONE ON TUMBLR HAD THIS IDEA I JUST TOOK IT AND RAN WITH IT. I CAN'T REMEMBER THEIR USERNAME AT ALL BUT THANK YOU,,</p><p>PLS LET ME KNOW IF YOU KNOW I REALLY DON'T WANNA LEAVE THEM UNCREDITED,,,,,</p><p>anyway CW for manipulation, and specifically manipulation from the manipulator's pov, and some swearing because Tommy is in this fic</p><p>enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The community house was a good idea. Everyone was helping build, gathering resources, they were all laughing and joking with one another, and frankly, Dream couldn’t be happier. It was like one big family, like he’d always hoped it’d be.</p><p> </p><p>It’d be perfect…</p><p> </p><p>If Sapnap wasn’t having a conversation with fire. <em>Literal</em> fire.</p><p> </p><p>He was sat on the side of the lake, taking a well-deserved break from helping Dream pull up walls, and sat cross-legged in front of a campfire. Just… <em>chatting</em> to it, even pausing occasionally like he could hear it respond.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah and – oh, I don't know about that.” Sapnap laughed, cocking his head at the flames as Dream walked over. “No, no, I'm not–”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?” Dream asked, hoping he sounded more annoyed than confused. He hoped this was some kind of weird joke, or, hell, he’d settle for some kind of old magic he’d forgotten about.</p><p> </p><p>“I'm talking to Chat!” Sapnap explained cheerfully, answering exactly zero of Dream’s questions. “They keep asking me about fish, for some reason.” He paused, and glanced back towards the fire, narrowing his eyes slightly as he… listened? His face suddenly broke out in a confused smile, as he continued, “No, I don't know who Sally is, guys, please–”</p><p> </p><p>“You sound insane.” Dream stated flatly, shifting awkwardly on his feet and hoping Sapnap wouldn’t notice. He’d wanted to come sit down next to his friend, but now he just felt… weirdly unwelcome.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, don't be so pissy,” Sapnap said, rolling his eyes. “Just because you can't talk to yours.” The tone was jokey, but the words stung unexpectedly.</p><p> </p><p>Dream silently chastised himself for getting upset about something he didn’t even know about. “I don't have a <em>Chat</em>.” he mumbled, turning away and looking up at the silhouette of the community house against the sun. Bad and George should be back soon with more resources, with the way the sun was dipping low in the sky. “No one does. You're just nuts.”</p><p> </p><p>Sapnap laughed, and shrugged. “Sure, Dream, whatever you say.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>George burst out laughing, and Dream jumped, turning, his hand resting on his sword. He always did that, when he was caught off-guard, but he’d been particularly jumpy since the weird ‘Sapnap-and-fire’ situation. More in his thoughts, or whatever.</p><p> </p><p>And it looked like it was about to be yet another weird situation, as George was… just laughing. Sat in the grass, with a patch of mushrooms growing next to his foot. What was so funny about mushrooms?</p><p> </p><p>“No, I can't, he'd kill me.” George laughed, barely able to catch his breath. “Jesus Christ, guys!”</p><p> </p><p>Ah. Yeah, it could very well be another… ‘chat’ thing. Whatever Chat even was. He hadn’t been able to get a straight answer out of Sapnap.</p><p> </p><p>“Who the hell are you speaking to?” Dream asked, staring at the mushrooms suspiciously. Maybe those were just… special, mushrooms, or George had been cursed by some forest spirit they’d both managed to anger, there were literally a <em>thousand</em> other options aside from talking to that made up Chat thing–</p><p> </p><p>“Just talking to Chat, they wanna know if–”</p><p> </p><p>“Chat doesn't exist.” Dream snapped, and he <em>knew</em> that was harsh, and a bit of a mood swing, and George was looking at him like he was slightly hurt, but… well, it <em>didn’t</em>.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t exist, that was just common sense.</p><p> </p><p>George blinked at him, and raised an eyebrow from behind the glasses. “Uh, well, I beg to differ. Come on, come sit.” He patted the ground next to him, and after a moment of hesitation, Dream crossed his legs and dropped down next to him.</p><p> </p><p>“How do I speak to 'Chat' then, huh?” He asked, pushing the porcelain mask up so it rested on his head, and resting his chin in one hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Just stare at the mushrooms, and focus.” George explained, with a wave of his hand, like it was obvious. “At least, that works for me. C'mon, just try it.”</p><p> </p><p>Dream paused, and stared at the mushrooms. Several awkward seconds ticked by, George quietly laughing under his breath and glancing at Dream out of the corner of his eye.</p><p> </p><p>“George, I think you and Sapnap are both just crazy.” Dream said eventually, rolling his eyes and standing up. They were meant to be gathering wood, and had already wasted enough time as it was.</p><p> </p><p>“You're giving up?” George asked, sounding disappointed, but not particularly surprised, as he also stood up and brushed himself off.</p><p> </p><p>“I'm not wasting time on something that doesn't exist.” Dream explained, walking away, and raising his axe to a tree. And he wasn’t going to. He’d just complain about this to Bad in private when they delivered all of this back to him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Bad told Dream that even <em>he</em> had a Chat, and even managed to pull out several old books with evidence, Dream had to give in.</p><p> </p><p>Chat existed. It was different for everyone, some Chats were kind and supportive, others mainly told jokes or casually made fun of whoever was listening to them. And it was different for everyone, with how they actually <em>did</em> listen in to Chat. Bad had to be in the dark to talk to his – Sapnap had to focus on fire, but it had to be a fire he <em>himself</em> had lit, apparently. George had his mushrooms, for some reason.</p><p> </p><p>Even <em>Tommy</em> had a Chat, and that’s why he’d play those stupid discs so often.</p><p> </p><p>A Chat was a source of comfort, a companion, a friend, sometimes a warning, it was many things. And everyone had one.</p><p> </p><p>Except for Dream.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t really see the appeal of a Chat, to be honest. It seemed more like an annoyance than anything else. Bad had offered him some books on how to do it, but apparently, <em>Bad</em> had been able to talk to chat from early childhood, Sapnap from when he was a young teenager, and whilst George <em>had</em> struggled at first, but that was because of his colour-blindness. When he got accommodation, he could speak to Chat almost instantly.</p><p> </p><p>So, no. Dream was perfectly content not speaking to Chat.</p><p> </p><p>It <em>did</em> still piss him off when others did, he would admit. But it was hardly like he could just <em>order</em> people not to talk to their Chats.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>So. Dream might've fucked up.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur stared at him like he'd just grown three heads. He was confused, and so in shock that he’d began laughing. He’d even had to take off the hat of his revolutionary uniform, and hold it against his chest as he’d doubled over in laughter.</p><p> </p><p>He’d straightened up now, and was clearly holding back more laughter. They were stood outside of L’Manberg’s walls, just outside the entrance.  “You… you can’t tell me <em>not</em> to talk to Chat.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, actually, I can.” Dream said flatly. “No talking to Chat. New rule. Not if you want…” he gestured around at the walls Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo had hastily put up. “…Whatever this is to stick around.” He said, pretending he knew nothing about the nation growing around him. To maintain the illusion of distance.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur raised an eyebrow. “L’Manberg. An independent sovereign nation–”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure. Whatever.” Dream rolled his eyes. “No talking to Chat. It’s simple enough.”</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur sighed, and folded his arms, leaning back against one of L’Manberg’s walls. “Like,” he gestured vaguely. “just in your presence, or in general?” he asked, sounding a little too hopeful for Dream’s taste.</p><p> </p><p>“At all.” He confirmed, and some of the light in Wilbur’s eyes died. Was it bad that seeing that felt good? No, no. He was just a step closer to stopping some weird nonsense everyone on the server was participating in.</p><p> </p><p>“Chat doesn't exist, Wilbur, so forgive me for trying to cure <em>mass</em> <em>delusions</em>.” Dream explained, as calmly as he could. “You’ll thank me in the long run.”</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur blinked at him. “Did – did you just say Chat <em>doesn’t</em> <em>exist?”</em> in pure shock.</p><p> </p><p>“It <em>doesn’t</em>.” Dream argued quietly. He really, <em>really</em> didn’t want to have this argument <em>again</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s – <em>of course </em>it’s real?” Wilbur spluttered, half laughing again.</p><p> </p><p>Dream rolled his eyes, and turned away. “If L’Manberg ever gets independence, you can indulge in your delusions as much as you want. Until then,” he shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>Dream turned, as Wilbur muttered to himself. Presumably to his Chat. If they even existed.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Eret?” Dream called, his voice echoing through the castle, voice bouncing off of the stone walls. “<em>Eret</em>, where are you?”</p><p> </p><p>He was met with silence, and he groaned, stretching his arms as he began the long walk through the castle. Wherever Eret was, they’d better be doing something important.</p><p> </p><p>It took him a while – he’d accidentally stumbled into a room filled with <em>flamingos</em>, which he didn’t really want to question – before he actually <em>did</em> find Eret. They were pacing around one of the towers when Dream poked his head through.</p><p> </p><p>“No, that wouldn’t work.” Eret muttered, holding up a golden apple to the window. “Hm… unless I put the gold on wrong…”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, hello, your majesty.” The king jumped at the sound of Dream’s voice, and they turned quickly, adjusting their sunglasses quickly, the flash of white not going unnoticed..</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, hello Dream.” They said smoothly, casually throwing the golden apple in the air, and catching it effortlessly. “Tell me, do you have any idea on how to enchant these, my Chat has been trying to offer advice, but they really don’t know–”</p><p> </p><p>Dream fought the urge to groan out loud. Not <em>Eret </em>too, he’d actually had hope for them.</p><p> </p><p>“Eret,” he warned. Eret froze, seemingly remembering the rules Dream had established, months ago.</p><p> </p><p>They sighed. “My apologies, Dream, but you do realise that Chat is hardly something you can <em>ban</em>.” They said, raising an eyebrow. Dream stayed silent, but he was grimacing behind the mask.</p><p> </p><p>“Even if you don’t talk to them, they’ll end up wanting your attention enough that you <em>can’t</em> ignore them. You’ve got no idea how persistent they can be, especially for me. When they’re in my home.” Eret continued, gesturing to the castle around them, twirling the golden apple in their hand slowly, inspecting the edges.</p><p> </p><p>Dream felt like he’d been slapped in the face.</p><p> </p><p>Chat was meant to <em>reach out?</em> To – to <em>want</em> your attention? Was that even meant to happen if you didn’t know how to speak to them in the first place?</p><p> </p><p>“You think ink would work, for writing the enchantments?” Eret asked, as if they hadn’t completely shaken Dream’s whole world.</p><p> </p><p>“Quill with no ink, scratch it in slowly.” Dream answered, barely paying attention. How – <em>how</em> could that be how Chat worked? Why was it not reaching out to him – in all his years alive? He’d – he’d spent so long – <em>alone</em>. With <em>no one</em> reaching out to him, <em>no one at all</em>, and –</p><p> </p><p>Was he just broken? Was he <em>wrong</em>, was that why he didn’t have a Chat – why he couldn’t speak to them? <em>What was wrong with him?</em></p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Eret said, opening a chest, “hey, why did you come looking for me? Is something wrong–”</p><p> </p><p>“No reason at all. Just checking in.” Dream lied quickly, cutting them off. He actually <em>had</em> needed Eret for something, but that could wait. He had… he just had to leave.</p><p> </p><p>He could hear Eret laughing to themselves, to the walls of their castle, as he made his exit.</p><p> </p><p>Eret was too comfortable with power. Dream would have to change that soon.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The last person Dream expected to come visit him was <em>Karl</em>.</p><p> </p><p>And yet, there he was. Standing awkwardly amongst the trees, hands in his pockets.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, hi, Dream.” He said, toeing his foot in the dirt.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Karl.” Dream responded, letting his axe fall from his shoulder. He wouldn’t say he and Karl were… friends. But they had a weird relationship. He was the only one who knew Karl could jump around the timeline, and Karl was the only one who truly knew just how old he was.</p><p> </p><p>They’d gotten to know each other well. Dream involved himself in everything, Karl involved himself in nothing. Both were for safety.</p><p> </p><p>“So… Uh, I’m not sure when I am–”</p><p> </p><p>“Wilbur and Tommy have just been exiled from Manberg.” Dream said, hefting his axe again as he realised Karl wouldn’t be staying long. He swung the blade at the nearest tree, and supressed a laugh when Karl flinched at the loud thud.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah. I’m in the right time, then.” He said, glancing up at the night sky, dark and studded with stars.</p><p> </p><p>“You here for a reason, or this just where you landed?” Dream asked eventually, once the tree was fully felled. He was never a fan of silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Bit of both. I was coming to find you anyway, landing here was a happy accident.” Karl admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s about Chat. And you, uh, banning it. And all.”</p><p> </p><p>Dream clenched his jaw, and tried to ignore how he was still holding his axe. The more people talked about their <em>fucking</em> Chats, the more annoyed he found himself getting. And that annoyance was beginning to boil hotter and hotter, every <em>single</em> time.</p><p> </p><p>“What about it?” he asked, through gritted teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t last.” Karl said softly. “Dream, you–”</p><p> </p><p>“Karl, if you’re not gonna be useful, why don’t you go and watch Quackity die again?” he snapped, voice darker than he intended. Still, he didn’t feel bad when Karl’s eyes widened and he took a step back.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re playing with fire, Cornelius,” he warned. Dream scoffed, and turned back to the trees.</p><p> </p><p>“Cry me a river.” He muttered, before realising he was very, very alone. Karl had left him, once again.</p><p> </p><p>He hefted his axe again, and threw all his rage into the next few swings.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dream was wrapping up the final stack of TNT, tying the explosives as neatly as he could, his leather gloves creaking from use, the ends of his fingers red and raw.</p><p> </p><p>And Sapnap… was talking to fire. <em>Again</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He was whispering fervently to a torch he held in his hand, quietly, so Dream wouldn’t hear it. He’d forgotten that Dream could hear more than he let on.</p><p> </p><p>“Sapnap, I swear to–”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re really packing all that TNT by yourself?” a high, female voice asked, sounding more jokey than insulting. He whipped around, to stare at Sapnap, who was looking a little confused.</p><p> </p><p>“Did…” Dream trailed off. Sapnap opened his mouth, supposedly to ask him what he was looking at, but then –</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Dream</em>, Sapnap, what are you two doing down here?” George’s voice echoed down into the cave Dream was hiding the TNT in. Sapnap raised the torch to the entrance, and waved.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi George! We’re just–” Dream turned away, ready to recount the TNT, just to be sure, when Sapnap’s voice broke off.</p><p> </p><p>“God, not even helping? Rude.” A lower, male voice with a distinctive accent muttered. Dream froze.</p><p> </p><p>Unless Sapnap had suddenly gotten incredibly good at mimicking voices…</p><p> </p><p>No. No, no. It couldn’t be.</p><p> </p><p>Was – was <em>Chat</em> –</p><p> </p><p>“Dream, hello? Wilbur wants you.” George’s voice echoed off of the stone walls.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur. Of course.</p><p> </p><p>Chat would have to wait. Dream had a few lives to ruin.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He couldn’t have anything.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t have anything, anything at all he could care about.</p><p> </p><p>It all had to go.</p><p> </p><p>The next few months passed in a blur, and throughout all of it, one thing remained in the back of his head, something that he barely thought about but <em>remained</em>.</p><p> </p><p><em>Chat existed, and it didn’t want him</em>.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?” Dream asked, stepping onto Logstedshire’s sandy coastline. Tommy's excited chatter suddenly died, as he tensed up and turned to stare at Dream. He’d been sat in front of his jukebox, leaning against it, head resting next to where the disc comfortably slot in.</p><p> </p><p>The cheerful music continued to flow from the jukebox, eerily loud on the quiet coastline, as Tommy’s eyes widened in fear. Dream wouldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy the sight.</p><p> </p><p>“Dream!” he said, voice strangled. He stumbled to his feet, and quickly folded his arms over his battered iron chest-plate. “Uh, hi! Hello!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Tommy.” Dream said, smiling pleasantly behind his mask. Tommy couldn’t see, but that was fine. It helped with his tone of voice, anyway. “What were you doing?” He asked, as if he didn’t clearly hear the jukebox playing merrily.</p><p> </p><p>“…Listening to a disc?” Tommy asked hesitantly, like he was unsure of the answer, even though it was obvious. Dream’s smile widened, in spite of himself. Oh, what Tommy had turned into was a truly <em>stunning</em> piece of work, even if he did say so himself.</p><p> </p><p>But the self-congratulatory party would have to wait.</p><p> </p><p>“A disc, huh.” Dream said, as casually as he let himself. “Isn’t that how you think you talk to Chat?” he asked, inspecting the razor-sharp points of his trident, glowing faintly with enchantments.</p><p> </p><p>“I <em>do</em> talk to Chat.” Tommy responded, raising an eyebrow the same way Wilbur did, once. “And they say you’re–”</p><p> </p><p>Dream strode forward quickly. Tommy was always going to be a challenge, he was always so <em>defiant</em>, to the point where he must’ve gained some kind of sick joy from pissing Dream and <em>everybody else</em> off. He rested his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, and he felt the teen’s shoulder tense beneath it.</p><p> </p><p>Good.</p><p> </p><p>“What do they say about me, Tommy?” he asked, voice soft. Tommy flinched like Dream had raised his hand to hit him.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing! Because I wasn’t talking to them!” Tommy said quickly, eyes looking everywhere except for Dream’s mask. He tightened his grip, ever so slightly, and Tommy’s eyes locked with his. Not that he’d be able to tell, but regardless.</p><p> </p><p>“Tommy, I never said you <em>were</em>.” Dream said, letting the fake disappointment in his voice mask the glee he was genuinely feeling. “But I’m so glad you’re <em>telling</em> me when you break rules, now.”</p><p> </p><p>Of course, that had been one of the first rules Dream had established. Ever since L’Manberg had made it legal within their walls, everyone else had gotten far too cocky about Chat, in Dream’s opinion.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy clenched his fists, and looked down at his feet, and nodded minutely. “Y-yeah. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Dream sighed heavily, and pushed Tommy aside, biting back a laugh when he stumbled slightly. Aw, had he been too harsh?</p><p> </p><p>“Well, sorry doesn’t always cut it, Tommy.” He explained, stressing the disappointment in his voice as he pulled out his shovel. Tommy inhaled sharply as Dream began to dig.</p><p> </p><p>The damn music disc was still playing. What was that one called again? Blocks? It was nice. Dream even tried to time when his shovel hit the earth to the beat. He didn’t quite get it, he’d never been good with music, but Tommy certainly didn’t seem to care.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright,” Dream announced, once he was done, pulling himself out of the hole, and switching out his shovel for his bow. “armour off, in the hole.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy sighed, and nodded, and began pulling off his armour. It made the usual loud clanging sounds of iron hitting stone, and Tommy sat down heavily once his entire inventory was emptied. Dream hadn’t even asked him to do that, he just knew now.</p><p> </p><p>How wonderful! He <em>could</em> learn, after all.</p><p> </p><p>But Tommy, in order to learn, had to be <em>taught</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that’s not everything.” Dream said casually, taking out an arrow from his quiver, and twirling it in a small arc around his fingers. “Take the disc, and throw it in there too.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy blinked, and looked up at Dream, disbelieving.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t be serious–”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Dead</em>.” Dream snapped. “Which is what you’ll be. If you <em>don’t</em>–”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy jumped to his feet, and raced over to the jukebox, clumsily pulling the disc out, so fast it made a horrific screeching sound as it was ripped away.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy paused, at the edge of the hole, disc in his hand. “…This is how I talk to Chat. This is how I talk to people when you’re not here.” He whispered, voice wavering.</p><p> </p><p>“Chat doesn’t exist.” Dream sighed. “Tommy, I’m trying to help you. If you keep listening to Chat… you’ll just go insane.” He warned.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy still kept a hold on the disc, but his hands were shaking. “Chat talks about you a lot these days.” He muttered, fingers tightening on the disc’s shiny black surface.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? And what do they say?”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s head raised, blonde hair in desperate need of cutting and falling into his eyes, chin raised defiantly.</p><p> </p><p>“They say you’re a <em>bitch</em>.” Tommy said, the rebellious spark burning bright in his voice, the spark that Dream thought he’d finally killed dead.</p><p> </p><p>Dream pulled back the arrow in the bow, and aimed it at Tommy’s chest. “Drop the disc in the hole, Tommy. <em>Now.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s hands fumbled, and the disc dropped into the hole with a quiet <em>thunk</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s things went up in smoke, and Dream could finally put those stupid thoughts of Chat to rest.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t matter if Chat didn’t want him.<br/><br/></p><p>It didn’t matter if he couldn’t reach Chat, it didn’t matter if he was broken.<br/><br/>Because Chat didn’t exist. And it never had.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ty Sarah for the title suggestion &lt;3 comment and kudos if you enjoyed it gives me ~serotonin~</p></blockquote></div></div>
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